


ignite the light

by Liu



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fireworks, M/M, Wedding Planning, background Olicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 03:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7026742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liu/pseuds/Liu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray Palmer is a good wedding planner - even when he has to plan the wedding of his ex-girlfriend. Mick Rory is a fireworks manufacturer who isn't at all impressed with Ray's management skills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ignite the light

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for kickingshoes on tumblr: "two miserable people at a wedding" AU. And since I wrote like... 3 of these already, for different pairings, I tried to come up with something new ^^;
> 
> Title blatantly stolen from Katy Perry because I can't name a fic to save a life.

The fireworks are a sight to behold. Ray’s neck starts cramping halfway through, but he still can’t tear his eyes away from the sky, blooming with gold and silver, green and purple and pink. He’s pretty sure there are shapes bursting above his head that he’s never seen before in fireworks, concentric circles with beautifully balanced coloring, tiny sparking stars raining down and leaving silvery trails behind, blazing licks of rich color, shimmering around the edges. 

The lights burn into his retinas, leaving shimmery residue in his vision, and it feels like they’re also burning his troubles away, one by one, if only for the duration of the show. That’s alright - a moment of peace is more than Ray’s had in quite some time. And that… that deserves some gratitude.

He doesn’t do this often: he might be the wedding planner, but his business has grown so much that at least half of the duties gets delegated to various assistants and specialists now. It has made communication more difficult sometimes, layered and less straightforward, but he trusts his team a great deal and they have yet to let him down.

But today, Ray really wants to go thank the guy who has met every difficult demand and then carried it out with grandeur that Ray couldn’t even dream of for this wedding. 

He weaves through the crowd of people who still keep their eyes trained to the sky as the last fireworks sparkle brighter than the stars. Ray only has to follow the thin smoke trails to find the guy responsible for this light, relaxed feeling in Ray’s chest.

He’s… exactly what Ray expected and absolutely _not_ what he expected at the same time. He’s big and burly and smells of smoke, and when he sees Ray approach, he doesn’t look particularly friendly. Ray walks closer, anyway.

“Mr. Rory?” he says, because even if most of the direct communication with the man has been done by an assistant, Ray does make it his business to know the names of everyone involved in every wedding. 

“Yeah?” the guy growls, confirming that this, indeed, is the firework genius who came highly recommended (and with a few warnings, too). He’s half-hidden in the shadows, but where the lantern light hits his face, he’s definitely on the handsome side, Ray thinks. It’s definitely not an appropriate thought, and he focuses on what he came to say.

“That was quite a show. Incredible. I mean, I’ve never seen something like that, and I just wanted to tell you that.”

Mr. Rory gives him an grimace that makes Ray feel very young and very inexperienced for about two seconds, and then he scowls, shrugging as he turns away, crouching by the huge crate and collecting his things into it.  
  
“Well it woulda been better if the idiot planner didn’t keep changing his mind fifty times,” he grumbles. Ray swallows, refusing to keep his identity secret like a complete coward, but the urge to take a step back is still at the back of his mind when he answers.

“Hey. I’m the idiot planner - nice to meet you.”

He smiles as wide as he can when he says those words, but Mr. Rory’s first reaction is still a fierce glare, so Ray feels the definite need to maybe apologize for the constant calls to amend their demands.

“And I’m sorry about the changes,” he says earnestly, “and I would very much like to continue working with you in the future. Trust me, usually there aren’t that many last-minute changes - but it was kinda hard to plan a wedding to the theme of ‘two years ago I thought _I_  would be marrying this woman’.”

He laughs as he speaks, but his joke must’ve fallen flat or maybe Mr. Rory isn’t much for humor, because he continues frowning and looking otherwise unapproachable and menacing.

“I’ll… um. I’ll just go?” Ray mumbles, gesturing over his shoulder - he does appreciate the fireworks and he would very much like to continue working with Mr. Rory, which means pissing him off isn’t probably the best idea. 

The guy suddenly bursts into action: for a man his size (and grumpiness), he is surprisingly fast in his advance and Ray yelps, taking a step back. He feels his shoe getting caught on a root and he flails, already calculating the costs of dry-cleaning the grass stains out of the tux- 

And then he stops mid-air, something tugging him upright again. Something that is still glaring at him, but with a hint of amusement in the otherwise severe face.

“Seriously?” the guy huffs, and Ray has a feeling it’s actually a chuckle. Just… a menacing, manly chuckle. 

“There was a root,” Ray mumbles, ashamed about his clumsiness, but Mr. Rory shakes his head and interrupts any further explanations:

“Nah. I meant the bride. You were dating her? Really?”

Ray can only nod - and the quiet, painful ache in his chest is back. He wishes for the pretty lights to chase that pain away, but he knows they’re not coming, so he focuses on Mr. Rory’s eyes - the glare is blazing enough - as he answers.

“For a few months, yes.”

“You really an idiot?”

“No,” Ray mumbles, somewhat offended. “I thought we’d be good together. Turned out, I wasn’t her best choice, after all,” he smiles - and it looks like every smile he gives just makes the guy’s scowl deeper.

“Don’t talk shit like that about yourself,” he huffs, glowering at Ray. For a moment, Ray believes more of the lecture is coming - but in the end, the man simply shrugs: “Why’d you take the job then?”

“We’re friends now, all three of us. It’s fine,” Ray says, and he nearly believes his own words. Nearly.

“Sounds like you could use a drink, Pretty Boy.”

It’s the nickname that throws Ray off - he splutters something about how he needs to supervise a number of… things, there are surely _things_  that demand his attention, but Mr. Rory waves it all off with his big hand and gives Ray an expression that doesn’t feel hostile at all:

“Sure they’ll manage half an hour without you. C’mon. There’s an open bar.”

Technically, Mr. Rory isn’t supposed to have access to _that_ , but Ray finds himself mesmerized by the guy enough that he lets it slide. 

As it turns out, Mr. Rory’s first name is Mick, but Ray only gets to say it once before he’s dragged to a shadowed alcove for a kiss that makes his toes curl, his heart burst and his hands clutch at Mick’s shoulders like it’s his lifeline.

As it also turns out, Mick was right and Ray isn’t missed for nearly sixty-four minutes. When one of his assistants comes running, panic already visible in his eyes because of some problem with the band or something, Ray quickly pulls away from Mick’s tight embrace (no matter how hard it is… no pun intended) and buttons up his shirt. Funny thing, he never noticed when Mick started messing with his tie, but he doesn’t have the time to go find it, so he merely smiles at the man and lets his assistant talk his ear off about the problem at hand.  

When he finally solves everything that required his attention, Mick is nowhere to be found, and Ray’s heart (and smile) falls. Fortunately, a couple of minutes later, he finds a business card tucked into the waistband of his slacks - and when did Mick manage that?!

Under the professional, simple ‘Mick Rory, fireworks design and manufacture’, there’s a couple of words in a scratchy handwriting.

_Looking forward to working with you soon, Haircut._

Ray tucks it into his breast-pocket and smiles his way through the rest of the wedding that was supposed to break his heart and didn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr.](http://pheuthe.tumblr.com/)


End file.
